It took some gentle, purring persuasion on the part of the Khajiiti champion, Zadabal-ra, to convince the aloof, golden-skinned inhabitant of Summerset Isles to arrive at our fighters' feast. But arrive he did, bringing a caravan of gleaming shields, winged helms, and spears dedicated to Phynaster the Guardian. Though we uncultured barbarians of the mainland had to sit through copious waffle regarding our shortfalls in battle, which almost brought the Nord champion to a seething, violent outburst, tempers were soothed with mead and some ferocious combat training, where the soaring and fluid designs of the Altmeri weapons of war—thin and swan necked like their ships were finally tested.